


This is Not the Man I Hoped to Be

by LookAlive_DeadEyes



Series: i think you saved my life [1]
Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bullying, Cutting, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Poetry, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, and to open up, bullied, it gets super gay and nice, just mentioned tho, me? heavily projecting? more likely than you think, vic needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookAlive_DeadEyes/pseuds/LookAlive_DeadEyes
Summary: Relapse. It was always there, always on the back of Vic's mind. He's been clean for years, but that didn't make it any easier.One day while Kellin is gone, Vic snaps like the rubber band he always wears on his wrist, only to have Kellin catch him in the act.ft. gay fluff, angst, and a bit of poetry





	This is Not the Man I Hoped to Be

**Author's Note:**

> hey sorry i haven't posted anything in forever
> 
> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM  
> IT GETS GRAPHIC IN THE BEGINNING
> 
> title from "Alibis" by Mariana's Trench
> 
> this is me projecting everything on to vic lmao

Vic let out a dry, hollow laugh at the absurdity of this situation.

 

He was sitting on his bathroom floor, leaning against the wall. His hand trembled around the razor he was holding. The only difference between now and his teenage years were that now, he wasn’t reduced to a razor unscrewed from a pencil sharpener. He held a razor blade meant for shaving in his right hand, held up at eye level.

 

Vic stared at the blade, almost entranced. It had been so long since he had done this, so long since he allowed his flesh to become as ragged and torn as his mind. So long since his body bore the scars of a constant and bloody battle always waging in his head.

 

So long since he felt that release, that rush, that high that no drug could ever come close to matching.

 

With a quick glance to the bathroom door to make sure it was locked, Vic took a deep breath. He brought the razor down to his thigh and paused.

 

The metal was poised right over a maze of scars. Some thin and white and faded, some still pink from how deep he had cut. The worst area was about the size of his hand, with dozens upon dozens of scars puckering the skin. Splaying out from there were about a dozen more scars, scattered over the rest of his thigh. His right leg was in the same condition.

 

For all of the years Vic cut, he never dared gash into his arms. He was too scared someone would see them and discover his darkest secret.

 

With a demented grin, Vic moved the razor to the top of his left forearm, nearing his wrist. He was an adult, now, he could hide them. He was smarter than he was during his suicidal teen years, he could cover it up now. And besides, it would feel so damn good that it would all be worth it.

 

With one last breath, he plunged the silver metal into his left forearm and dragged it in a diagonal line. Vic let out a massive breath as he saw the blood start to pool. He watched, entranced, as the droplets slowly began to drip down his arm.

 

Without another thought he brought the blade the his arm again and slashed. He made another four cuts before realizing he shouldn't do too many on his arm, in case he got caught.

 

Lowering the razor to his left thigh, he dug it in yet again. Dragging the sharp metal over the mess of faded scars, Vic let out a shaky breath of relief. He made slash after slash on his skin until he saw more blood than skin. He allowed his hand holding the razor to drop to his side as he sat, content with the burning on his wrist and thigh.

 

Vic didn't know how long he sat there before he heard footsteps, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes. Through his cloudy state, Vic could register that he needed to clean himself and the bathroom up, that someone was coming. He still didn’t make any move to get up, though, until he was jolted out of his trance by a knocking at the bathroom door. 

 

“Vic? Are you in there?” Kellin's voice rang in Vic's ears. 

 

Fuck. Vic swallowed. “Uh, yeah.”

 

“You good?” Kellin’s voice became softer as he asked. Was Vic sick? Hurting? He didn’t sound normal.

 

“Yeah, uh, all good, Kells. Don’t worry. Just, uh, taking a shit.” Vic tried to force a laugh, but it came out sounding strangled.

 

Kellin’s heart sped up. He knew something wasn’t right.

 

“I need to get something. Can I come in?” his hand moved to the doorknob, and he prayed the door wasn’t locked.

 

“No! I mean, I’ll be out soon. Stay out there.” Vic felt a spike of adrenaline run through him and his hands shook as he frantically grabbed at tissues to stem the rushing blood.

 

“Vic, you’re scaring me. I’m coming in, okay?” Kellin was infinitely glad Vic left the door unlocked.

 

“No!” VIc yelled out when he saw the door open. He could have sworn he locked it. He couldn’t stop Kellin, though.

 

Vic just clenched his eyes shut. This was just a dream, he told himself. He would wake up in a moment with Kellin next to him in bed, arms clean, and no added scars to his legs.

 

Vic’s hope was shattered when he heard Kellin suck in a gasp and make a noise that sounded like it came from a kicked puppy. He opened his eyes and saw Kellin standing over him, mouth open.

 

“Vic….” Kellin knelt down next to Vic, starting to hold out his hand.

 

“I’m sorry,” Vic whispered. How could he be so weak? How could be such a fucking idiot? He should have just locked the door, then Kellin wouldn’t have been looking at him with those sad eyes.

 

Kellin shook his head and swallowed down the lump in his throat. He couldn’t cry, he had to focus on helping Vic. “Give me the blade.” Kellin hated the way his voice shook when he spoke.

 

Vic nodded and handed him the razor, a tear streaking it’s way down his face. “I’m sorry. I just….I’m an idiot.” Goddammit. Now Kellin was going to see how pathetic he really was. There was no way he would stick around after this.

 

“Vic, I love you. I care about you. I’m never going to leave you. I just -” Kellin’s voice broke and he sniffed, blinking rapidly. “It hurts so much to see you like this because I never want you to hurt this bad.”

 

Kellin saw Vic nod and let out a shaky breath. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

 

Vic nodded again and looked up at Kellin with watery eyes. “Love you.”

 

Kellin swiped at his eyes and nodded. “Love you, too.” Kellin paused, thinking of how best to clean up the mess that had come from the relapse. “SIt on the edge of the tub?”

 

Vic didn’t reply, he just forced himself to stand and shuffle to the bathtub, slumping down on the edge as his feet dangled in. He was wearing a t shirt and some boxers, both now completely stained with his blood.

 

Kellin saw Vic’s hands shaking as he stared at what he had done to himself. The cuts on his arm were deep, albeit few. Kellin couldn’t tell how many cuts there actually were, but there was so much blood. Kellin felt his stomach turn. 

 

He knew Vic had self harmed in the past, but they had never really spoken about it. Whenever Kellin brought the subject up, Vic would horribly uncomfortable and clam up entirely. The most Kellin knew was that Vic cut for five years, when he was 13 to 18, and he got bullied. He knew Vic’s teenage years were a living hell, and now he couldn’t help but wonder if Vic had ever managed to claw his way out.

 

Kellin was jolted out of his thoughts by a whimper of pain from Vic. As if he was in a trance, Vic was grazing his fingers along the cuts on his arm.

 

“They’ll all know,” his voice was eerily calm and quiet. “They’ll know what a fuck up I am.” There was no shred of malice in the broken boy’s voice, no hint of anger or resentment or even sadness. Just utter apathy, as if he had already given up hope.

 

“No, baby, it’ll be okay. I promise. Let’s just get you cleaned up, okay?” Kellin walked over to the bathtub and straddled the side of the tub, right next to Vic. He turned on the spout and grabbed an empty water bottle from the counter - Vic left them everywhere, he never remembered to throw them out - and filled it with the warm water spurting into the tub. 

 

“This’ll sting, Vicky, I’m sorry,” Kellin hesitate to pour the water over the cuts, hating to put Vic through more pain.

 

Vic shook his head. “Everything already hurts. Just do it.”

 

Kellin’s heart broke at Vic’s shaking voice. He took a breath and began to pour the water on Vic’s thigh, sometimes blotting at the cuts with a washcloth he had thankfully remembered to grab. Vic barely reacted other than the occasional grimace or wince.

 

Kellin blinked away the tears in his eyes. Vic was so much worse than he had ever known. How could he have gotten this bad?

 

“Vic, I’m done. Stay here, I’m gonna grab you some new clothes, okay?” 

 

“One of your shirts?” Vic asked. Kellin’s heart melted.

 

“Of course, Vicky.” Kissing the top of Vic’s head one last time, Kellin quickly went into their room to grab some clothes. He pulled out a faded plain t shirt he had had for ages. Vic always said it smelled like him. 

 

Grabbing some boxers, Kellin made his way back to the bathroom, finding Vic still sat on the tub, rubbing at his eyes.

 

Kellin put the clothes down on some dry counter and grabbed a towel. He started to dry off Vic’s leg and arm, blotting at the open wounds.

 

“Love, I know that you hate talking about this stuff, but we really have to -”

 

“Not now. I just want to cuddle and sleep.” Kellin nodded. How could he refuse?

 

Once Vic was all changed and bandaged up, the two made their way to their room and promptly layed down, Kellin spooning Vic. He ran his hands through the older boy’s hair and kissed his shoulders.

 

“I love you, Vicky. So much. I just want to help you.” Kellin could feel Vic take a deep, shuddering breath.

 

“I know. I just . . . my mind. It’s all weird and messed up and I don’t want to make you sad by telling you.” Vic struggled to get the words out. The only times he ever opened up about his emotions were in his lyrics - he couldn’t hold an emotional conversation to save his life.

“I just want you to be happy, and I’ll do anything and everything to help you get better. It makes me sad seeing you in this much pain. I just wished you talked to me before it got this bad,” Kellin’s voice trailed off at the end.

 

“I didn’t even know it was this bad. I still don’t really believe it,” Vic let out a dry, humorless laugh.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Vic was quiet for a minute thinking of how to answer. He knew how to describe it if he could lace the words into poetry, hide the meanings behind metaphors and give Kellin time to digest it.

 

“I can write it.” Vic got out of bed and grabbed his notebook.

 

_swordfight scars on skin, dancing demons in the moonlight ringing bells for the world to hear._

_“quiet, hide it,” paralyzed._

_the perfect life but a mind flipping the script_

_changing the key_

_missing the beat._

_little white roadmaps, places i’ve sworn never to return to._

_but what’s one little road trip?_

_one little road trip compared to_

_his sinking pirate ship,_

_her plane crash,_

_their motorcycle accident._

_people care because i am heard when i speak in stanzas_

_but i can’t yell above the constant noise_

_i can’t argue and really,_

_what’s the point?_

_the devil on my shoulder shrieking at me to go deeper than ever,_

_that i’m nothing, that they’re all right._

_the unangelic angel saying the kind thing to do is distance, isolate, too late,_

_drip_

_drip_

_drip._

_quiet._

 

It wasn’t his best work, and Vic knew it. It was hastily scribbled, but you could tell what he felt. He turned around and gave it to Kellin, who was now sitting up.

 

Kellin finished reading the note and engulfed Vic in a bone crushing hug.

 

“Vicky, I love you so fucking much,” his words were muffled since he was speaking with his face shoved into Vic’s neck. “Forever. I want to be able to help you. I love you.”

Vic smiled and nuzzled Kellin’s head. “Sleep now?”

 

Kellin stopped his death grip on Vic and the two boys went back to spooning, Kellin’s arms wrapped around Vic and Vic holding on tight.

 

“Love you forever, Vic,” Kellin whispered.

 

“Forever and always.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> please leave a comment telling me what you thought or hit me up on tumblr @toastingtotheghosts
> 
> stay safe and remember that you are loved more than you will ever know


End file.
